Christmas love
by mika-niiet
Summary: Ryo of Girugamesh is sitting on the bench on the streets of Tokyo. Looking at all the happy couples strolling down. Feeling lonely as he is all by himself. It's all nothing, but how does he exist if he is nothing?


**Title:** Christmas love**  
Author:** Mika Kashii Haine**  
Band:** Girugamesh**  
Character:** Ryo**  
Rating:** PG13**  
Genre:** Angst**  
Chapters:** One shot**  
Warning: **Un beta-ed**  
Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone.**  
Summary:** A little further up they've put this huge tree, and it has been fully dressed in decorations, making it a Christmas tree.**  
Note: **First time writing a Girugamesh fic. All though it's not a pairing or anything... It is what it is. Lol, seems like that's my reasoning a lot lately, nee?! And who the hell writes Christmas fics in the middle of May?? Isn't that a little.. off beat? Lol. I've never had any rhythm at all anyway, so ~ it ~ does ~ not ~ matter ! Comments are like a beautiful melody

It's how they say it is. Being in a crowd makes one feel even lonelier. For when you're walking outside down the street. You see all these people. Couples holding hands. Mothers holding onto their children. Doesn't it seem like everyone has someone? And here I walk... alone. When I see all these people, being surrounded by hundreds of unknown identities, I feel even worse. Because it's like I'm the only one with no one. Like I am the only one, who is all alone.

The big day of Christmas is gradually coming closer. On the streets are light bulbs in sharp colours. Blinking and casting their deaf light on whatever may be beneath them. Posters telling of cheap Christmas sales. Or great bargains. Couples strolling down filled with the sweetest love for that one linked to their fingers.

A little further up they've put this huge tree, and it has been fully dressed in decorations, making it a Christmas tree. Beside it are a group of 6 people singing carols with all their might. It's not a clean and beautiful song. But it seems good enough for people. Because they stop in their tracks just to listen for a little. And then they are on their way again. Seems like no one bothers with the quality, for it brings back memories and it fills you up with the spirit of Christmas.

Sitting here. Alone. On a bench on the streets of Tokyo. With my cigarette lit and dangling from my thin lips. I take another deadly drag. Finally letting the smoke cease from me into a small streak of white against the darkened evening sky of December.

Looking up as I suddenly get fed up by all this lovey-dovey happiness floating around like a disease everyone wants, I stump my cigarette. Get's up and hurriedly walks away. With my hands stuffed into the pockets of my jacket. Seeking warmth from the cold that has etched itself into every part of me. Now that I've started walking, I realize just how cold I actually was. Burying my face further down into the warmth of my scarf. I feel how little it's actually working. I want to run home. But I'm too tired to do something like that. My limbs are aching from hitting the drums for countless of hours earlier this very same day.

Suddenly I feel something amazingly cold land on the tip of my nose. I scrunch it at the unpleasant touch. Automatically my head tilts upwards. I gaze up on the dark sky. Where millions of white snow crystals have started to gently fall down. Disappearing as it hits the ground. Becoming a pool of invisible water that soon will disappear and then the snow will be nothing. Like I am nothing. Something that's just vanishing by itself.

Deciding to take the path through the park. I walk there. Feeling colder by the moment as the snow is falling heavier. As it's being accompanied by many more than in the beginning. When I see the nostalgic swings at the side. I walk over there without much of a second thought. Sitting down. The cold of the swing makes me shudder in utter disgust. I want to get home and crawl under the comfort of my blanket. Into the safety of my bed. But for some reason. I feel like I need to watch the snow fall down. Before I know anything. And can control myself. Tears slide down and yeah, I'm crying. Even as a grown up man. I'm crying. It's not that I am hurt anywhere. It's not like anyone has mentally cause me pain. At least not enough pain and sorrow, to cause tears to fall. I really do not understand the meaning behind them. But they fill my eyes and trickle down my cold flesh of cheeks even if I don't want them to. I feel somewhat delighted about the tears. And somewhat I feel bad because I'm a grown man, and boys don't cry. What's there really to cry for anyway?

Back and forth. I make the swing go. Slowly. As I sit here alone. Accompanied by the snow of winter. I think of nothing. Don't feel anything. Hating Christmas. And all the cheerful people welcoming it with gleeful smiles. I hate it. I hate them. I'm just hating so much.

Even if I know it is impossible. Every tear drop on my cheek feels like they are freezing to ice droplets. Just like all this tormenting has made my heart turn cold. And it all feels heavy like a stone.

Then I get up and walk home. Down the street and turning corners, crossing roads, all alone I return to the darkness of my home.


End file.
